Leesa Cross-Smith

Ain't Half Bad

By Leesa Cross-Smith

A REVOLUTION

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By.  I listened to “Just Like You” by Keb’ Mo’ over and over again the same way I did when I was working at a coffee shop when I was in college....

By Leesa Cross-Smith

FLASH OF INSPIRATION: “WE, MOONS” AND MY STORY COLLECTION

When the Oxford American had to postpone Leesa Cross-Smith’s appearance at our South Words reading series, we asked her to write about her new story collection, So We Can Glow, and record...

By Leesa Cross-Smith

IN A FOREST GREEN

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By.  From the moment I heard the song, the repetition of “ more time, more time” got stuck in my head—as I was washing my face at night, as we...

By Leesa Cross-Smith

NO MATTER HOW SMALL

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By.  I quickly identified a mockingbird in the branches above us. And it was close, low, singing and calling its tiny bird heart out. I was...

By Leesa Cross-Smith

ON EBB AND FLOW

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By.  Within the span of one month, our children had stood on the front porch of the house that Martin Luther King Jr. was born in and also stood...

By Leesa Cross-Smith

QUIET, PLEASE

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By.  I think often of escaping from noise. Wherever I am, I like to sit by windows, doors. I like knowing how to get away when I need to get away.

By Leesa Cross-Smith

SOUND & COLOR & ESCAPE

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By.  In the spring and summer, I make a habit of sitting on our deck in the mornings and as far into the afternoons as the Kentucky sun, heat,...

By Leesa Cross-Smith

TRY AND TRY AND TRY

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By.  All of the beautiful songs, the incandescent lyrics—poor translations of what we really want to say when we cry or lift our hands or close...

By Leesa Cross-Smith